Give and Take
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: It started with alcohol and ended with a hangover, but what happened in between those two points is what really matters. A fight. Some dirty tactics. A little manipulation. Throw two bachelors in, shake well, serve on a horizontal surface, and enjoy.


This was requested by a good friend, and I had far more fun with it than I should have. I present to you yet another milestone in my fanfiction writing: angry sex. It's also a visit to a match that I've written before but never from this angle: Vincent and Tseng. Hard to say who's the dominant. I'll leave it to you to decide. Enjoy and review, folks! Reviews feed my horde of hungry muses!

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So it started with alcohol. That wasn't as big a deal as it would have been if they hadn't been a seasoned drinker and a modified amalgam of human and who-knew-what. For them, it was just enough to make Vincent drop a few shields and Tseng feel a touch more aggressive than usual. And it just happened that they were at the same bar, one just two blocks from Tseng's apartment. That was where the normal part of the encounter stopped.

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While Tseng fumbled with his keys at the door- it had been a long week and he was tired- Vincent felt it was necessary to make fun of him for it.

Tseng got the door open, and they entered in a flurry of blocked punches; Tseng had taken offense. Somewhere in the middle of it, it became more of a show of strength than anything else, one in which Vincent put his dangerous boots to good use, kicking and slashing with the boots and his gauntlet in deadly combination. Tseng dodged nimbly and fought back, hands moving to feint one way while he went for a pressure point the other direction.

Vincent hooked his fingers into Tseng's shirt and yanked. Buttons clattered on the floor as Vincent peeled the fabric off him, tossing it out of the way.

"I _liked_ that shirt," Tseng hissed. Vincent smiled thinly at him and twisted his arms behind him. Tseng growled and bit him, hard, grinding his teeth to make up for the layers of fabric keeping his teeth from Vincent's skin. Vincent yelped and pulled back.

In a series of increasingly dirty moves, they fought their way to the couch. Tseng fumbled Vincent's cloak off and threw it out of the way. Vincent drew red lines down Tseng's ribs with his flesh hand. Tseng hissed through his teeth and forced Vincent out of his shirt, too impatient to get it off properly. When he was free of the tangled garment, Vincent tossed his head to get his hair out of the way and made to grab Tseng, intending to get him back.

That was where Tseng finally had a chance to use his advantage. For all his enhancements, Vincent was still physically smaller than him and that was something claws and teeth couldn't always compensate for. With a calculated touch, he pushed Vincent, hard. Vincent stepped backwards, hit the coffee table, and went over backwards with an angry yowl.

He hit hard, banging his head on the hardwood, but had no time to get back up before Tseng came down on him, using his shoulder to keep Vincent pinned while Tseng fumbled blindly to get his boots off. He cut his palm on the sharp bronze toes but got them off and shoved them out of the way. Vincent fought him, writhing to make himself hard to hold once he figured out that sheer strength wasn't going to help him.

"Stop fighting me," Tseng growled gently, flipping his hair out of the way. "You want this as much as I do."

Vincent growled and brought his hand up, reaching for Tseng's arm. He jerked it, making Tseng almost fall and have to brace a hand against Vincent's chest. Blood from his cut smeared across Vincent's skin. When the smell caught Vincent's attention, he craned his neck to see where the smell was coming from. Tseng smiled and raised his hand, bringing it up where Vincent could see it.

"You wear dangerous boots, Vincent."

"Everything can be a weapon," Vincent murmured. He let go of Tseng's arm and wrapped long fingers around the wrist of the hand Tseng was showing him. Slowly, making sure Tseng was watching, he drew the hand down to his mouth and turned it over, so blood dripped from Tseng's palm to his lips. He licked them carefully, eyes closed, then lifted his head and licked along the cut. Tseng inhaled shakily at the feeling. "Even this." He licked hard, making Tseng gasp, then suckled gently, as if he were apologizing.

Tseng let him tease for a moment, then pulled his hand away and crushed their mouths together. It was not a sweet or gentle kiss, leaving Tseng with a startled nip on his tongue and Vincent with a cut on his lips. They passed the blood back and forth between them, drinking in the coppery taste and the acid Mako tang. Vincent got one leg out from under Tseng and toed Tseng's shoes off, drawing his foot up along the line of Tseng's leg slowly, pushing his pant leg with it.

They tussled, staying locked at the lips, Vincent fighting to get his legs around Tseng's to pin him so he could bring his hands back into play, Tseng struggling to stay on top.

When force failed, Vincent stopped and looked up, half-closing his eyes and gazing at Tseng through his lashes. Tseng froze, mesmerized by the glowing red eyes. Seeing his chance, Vincent reared up and flipped Tseng off him, shoving him backwards and riding him down to the floor. Tseng grunted when he hit, momentarily stunned.

"Do you really think you have what it takes to make me submit?" Vincent whispered, straddling him. "Do you think you can force me into anything? Do you think you can hurt me until I give in?" He buried his fingers in Tseng's hair and jerked his head up to look him in the eyes. "Do you?"

"I would never force you to anything," Tseng said quietly. "And I would never hurt you more than you wanted me to."

It was Vincent's turn to freeze. Tseng held very still, letting Vincent stare at him.

Slowly, Vincent lifted his other hand and ran the tips of his claws along the line of Tseng's jaw. Tseng's eyes fluttered closed and his lifted his head, exposing the long, tan column of his throat. Vincent's claws traced the line of a tendon down, skirted his collarbone, and moved back up. Tseng sighed.

"I could kill you like this," Vincent murmured softly, pressing his claw hard enough to draw a tiny bead of blood.

"But would you?"

"Perhaps." He drew the little droplet out, turning it into a thin line of red against Tseng's skin. Tseng didn't move, remaining mostly limp in Vincent's hold.

"And what would that accomplish? Reno would take my place and be even more in your hair than he already is, and Cloud's tentative relationship with Shinra would go down the tubes. And you'd make a mess."

"I like blood," Vincent reminded him, lifting his claw to lick the blood from it. Tseng relaxed back onto the floor.

"I'd noticed."

Vincent smiled and stretched out, keeping Tseng's body between his own and the floor. Tseng groaned softly. Vincent grinned and settled down, resting all his weight on Tseng. He closed his eyes.

"This is _not_ the time for a nap."

"Oh? And what is it time for?"

"I'm sure you can guess."

"Enlighten me."

"It is time for you to let me up so I can get you into my bedroom and screw you into the mattress," Tseng said shortly.

Vincent shrugged.

"That's nothing new," he yawned. "But I'm happy where I am."

Tseng bucked against Vincent, throwing him off balance enough to scrabble at the floor. In the moment of confusion, Tseng got his feet under himself and stood, then stooped to pick Vincent up. He straightened with a little over six feet of surprised gunslinger in his arms.

"Put me down," Vincent complained.

"And let you get away? No."

"I can walk, Tseng."

"Still no."

Vincent groused all the way to the bedroom, and gave Tseng a withering glare when he was gently tossed onto the bed. Tseng only smiled and crawled after him, pausing only to slide his slacks off. Vincent eyed him, remembering the fight to get his shirt off, and removed his own pants before Tseng could try and help.

There followed a few minutes of hungry kisses and strong hands running over bared skin, sacrificing gentleness for curiosity. Neither one of them was complaining about the rough handling.

When they'd gotten everything off and there was nothing between them but skin, the issue of dominance came into play. Who would win and who would be submissive?

They compromised, Tseng leaning back into the pillows with Vincent riding him, head thrown back and squalling.

Afterwards, Tseng curled against Vincent's stomach and dozed off. Vincent yawned, flicked Tseng's hair out of the way so he could breathe properly, and fell asleep.

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"Nnngg."

"About time you woke up."

"Oog," Tseng moaned, pulling the nearest pillow over his head.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you so _perky_?"

"Because I'm not hungover and you are."

Tseng lifted the pillow and peered out at Vincent. Sure enough, he looked just fine, aside from the dark marks on his throat. And, of course, the fact that those were Tseng's pants he was wearing, riding low on his narrow hips.

"Why?"

"I don't get hangovers," Vincent said almost cheerily, crossing to the bed and lifting the blankets off Tseng. "Go take a shower. You'll feel better for it."

"I'll pass."

"Don't make me carry you in there."

"I don't want to _move_, let alone stand long enough for a shower."

"Fine, stay there. I'll make you some tea."

Tseng pulled his blankets back up and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come quickly and take him away from this splitting headache.

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Apparently, it had worked; Vincent had to shake Tseng awake when he returned with a mug of green tea.

"Here," he murmured. "Drink. And no bitching about the sugar in it."

"You put _sugar_ in my green tea?"

"You need it."

Grudgingly, Tseng sat up, took the mug, and sipped experimentally. It was far sweeter than he liked green tea to be, but Vincent was probably right. After a few swallows, he looked up at Vincent again.

"There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know I didn't drink enough to be feeling this bad this morning."

Vincent shrugged. Tseng glared at him.

"I don't want to play guessing games with you."

"Just an advantage to being not quite human."

"No riddles, Vincent."

"My demons take something from my partners."

Tseng sat up straight at once. He regretted it afterwards, but it seemed like a good thing at the time.

"What do they take?" he asked softly.

"Nothing permanent, just energy. In your unfortunate case, you lost the energy you would have been using to burn through the alcohol and avoid a hangover."

"So this is _your_ fault?"

"Not mine directly. Yours, really, for choosing to pursue me."

Tseng snorted but lay back down, more concerned with his headache, queasy stomach, and overall feeling of exhaustion than with the mass of quirks that was Vincent Valentine.

Sensing his victory, Vincent smiled and leaned over Tseng, taking the tea away in favor of nibbling playfully at his lips. Tseng tried to respond, but was too tired and feeling too bad to really put any effort into it. Vincent chuckled in his ear, a warm, smoky sound, and sat back up, taking Tseng's hands and wrapping them around the mug again.

"This will be a lesson," he said softly, his breath ruffling Tseng's rumpled hair. "Alcohol or me, but never both, and only in moderation."

"You sound like my mother."

"Maybe she had the right idea."

Tseng groaned and put the tea on the bedside table, settling carefully on his side and resting his head on Vincent's leg.

"Can we continue this when I can think straight, please?" he asked.

Vincent nodded, working his fingers into Tseng's hair and massaging his scalp. Tseng closed his eyes, pushing into the touch.

"If you want me to be here when you can think straight. Isn't the tradition of one-night stands that one of us leaves in the morning?"

"Who says this was a one-night stand?"

"That's usually what drunken sex is."

"Not always."

"And is this one of those rare 'not always' moments?"

Tseng nodded slowly. Vincent smiled.

"Then yes, I can wait until you're feeling coherent enough to talk."

"Thank you."

Vincent hummed an acknowledging response and continued to pet Tseng. Slowly, Tseng and he shifted into a position more conducive to sleepy, cranky cuddling, Tseng curling up a bit to fit into the curve of Vincent's smaller body. He fell asleep, leaving Vincent to stroke his hair and shoulder affectionately.

Chaos stirred quietly.

_He wants you?_

He does indeed.

_About time you found yourself a mate._

You're only saying that because you want to be fed regularly.

_You humans are a very social species. You need to couple up to live fully. You finally finding a mate means better times ahead for all of us._

We'll have to see, won't we?


End file.
